


Months, Circles and Sixth Sense

by chainocommand



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel 616, The Avengers - All Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:33:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chainocommand/pseuds/chainocommand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another flash fic! Steve and Tony visit Stark Industries latest construction site before having lunch with Peter. Steve seriously considered collaring Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Months, Circles and Sixth Sense

‘In six months we’ll break ground,’ said the surveyor, leading Tony and Steve around the site. ‘It will be an amazing new compound, Mr. Stark.’

‘What is this place?’ Steve whispered to Tony. ‘Another Tony Stark Appreciation Foundation?’

Tony flashed him smile, ‘you know I was saving that for my birthday present to myself.’

‘You’re not meant to buy yourself buildings for your birthday, Tony,’ said Steve, looking up at the buildings around him.

‘No one else is rich enough to,’ said Tony, like that was a reason.

Steve gave up trying to explain to Tony why buying infrastructure for your own present wasn’t something normal people did. He should stop trying to explain the ‘little people’s’ notions to Tony. At best he got an expression that said, ‘it’s cute you think I care what you’re saying right now,’ at worse, ‘why are you bothering me with this?’ – let it not be said Tony could not make grown men cry with that look.

‘What is this place going to be called?’ asked Steve.

‘The Circles,’ said Tony exasperatedly. ‘Someone in the PR department thought it would be a clever illusion to the Iron Man suit – the circular arc reactor. Like anyone who is going to visit here has the time to look at the sign for five minutes until they think, ‘huh, I bet that alludes to the Iron Man suit, that’s clever.’ Tony made some sort of irritating hissing noise that Steve thought sounded like a pissy goose.

‘I don’t get it,’ said Steve.

‘No one gets it, there’s nothing to get,’ said Tony, ‘it’s some little Harvard prick thinking he’s being smart when really he’s being a smart-ass.’

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Steve.

‘Nothing, why?’ said Tony. 

‘Because you seem upset,’ said Steve.

‘I need a drink,’ Tony admitted after a moment.

‘Day been that bad?’ Steve asked.

‘Board meeting after accountant meeting after shareholders meeting,’ said Tony. He raked his hands through his hair. ‘I’m feeling like a stock option.’  
This was a problem that Steve saw Tony have a lot of the time. He was treated like a thing by most of the people in his life, and he played it up to the hilt, used it to compartmentalise his life – Tony the inventor, Tony the company owner, Tony the CEO, Tony the playboy, Tony the friend, Tony the Iron Man. Steve was one of the few – three, maybe four – people who were ‘inter-compartmental’ as one of Tony’s therapist (not the one who was currently in prison for assaulting Tony) put it. Steve saw the many facets of Tony Stark but he didn’t often get to talk to Tony – that particular individual only came out when he was dying or so drunk he was technically embalmed.

‘Can we leave?’ Steve asked, ‘let’s get lunch.’

Tony wouldn’t leave this place for himself – Stark stubbornness would make him wait it out, contrary little prick – but for Steve? They were in the car in five minutes, Happy driving them to the nearest restaurant.

‘What are you doing this weekend?’ asked Steve.

‘Some charity ball,’ said Tony, ‘and then I fly out to Japan Sunday night.’

‘Well, dinosaur induced apolocalyse allowing, why don’t we hang out?’

‘Hang out? Did Captain America just say “hang out”?’ Tony smirked.

‘Shut up, the radio helps me concentrate when I’m drawing,’ said Steve. ‘So? You, me, bad TV, good food, sound okay?’

‘Sounds like heaven,’ said Tony honestly. 

‘Good, I’ll tell Pepper – Happy wants to take her to Paris for the weekend,’ said Steve.

‘And he asked you to babysit me so she’d go,’ said Tony.

Steve could see him shutting down. Most people wouldn’t, but Steve saw it. The eyes dimmed, the smile got wide, toothier, but more posed. Maybe aesthetically more pleasing, but those smiles made Steve feel cold. 

‘No,’ said Steve, ‘but I hoped that since you won’t be spending the weekend planning how to give Pepper more premature grey hairs that you might be willing to spend time with a guy you pulled out the ice and brought into the twentieth century. If you don’t mind.’

Tony looked up at him, brown eyes warm again. ‘You can’t fix the DVD player, can you?’

‘It keeps blinking 12:00 at me!’

Tony snorted so hard his drink came out of his nose. 

‘Probably the first time coke came out of your nose instead of up,’ Steve said conversationally.

‘Ha ha ha, Captain America got jokes,’ said Tony. ‘Here’s Peter.’

Indeed it was, Spider Man winding his way through the tables to theirs. ‘Hey, guys! How is it going today? Happy was outside, he wanted Tony to sign this, something that Pepper sent over the fax machine. Why do you have a fax machine in your car? That’s taking your work with you to a whole new level. What are we drinking?’

 

An hour later, Tony was mainlining lemonade because Steve wouldn’t let him order alcohol, Peter was trying not to be angry but the little frown lines between his eyebrows were looking permanent, and Steve had a whole new respect for mothers with small children – it was not fun.

‘We should go swing dancing,’ said Tony. ‘Maybe look over the world wide web. Maybe watch Eight Legged Freaks. Hey, Peter, seen Spider Man lately?’

‘Shut up, Tony,’ Peter hissed. So protective was he of his identity that he was seriously considering forgetting how Aunt May raised him and kicking Tony under the table.

‘Ooh, my spidey senses are tingly,’ Tony said, finding himself hilarious. ‘I think Peter’s getting annoyed?’

‘My sixth sense is telling me that we should leave before a photographer takes a swing at an industrial weapons maker and I end up having to explain this all to the judge,’ said Steve. ‘From the dock. Again.’

‘I got you a lawyer,’ said Tony.’

‘You should have, it was your fault,’ said Steve, gesturing for the bill.

Tony threw a hundred dollar bill down onto the table and walked out.

‘I hate it when he does that,’ Steve muttered, putting his coat and following Tony out.

Peter looked at the bill – he’d never seen one before. So that was a Benjamin. Huh.

 

Steve seemed to have developed clairvoyance since meeting Tony – he always knew when Tony was about to do something dangerous or stupid. Granted, one could assume that Tony was constantly about to do something dangerous or stupid and be right ninety-two per cent of the time.

‘Tony.’

Tony looked over his shoulder, sheepish as he strapped on new rocket boots. ‘...Yes?’

‘No.’

‘You don’t –‘

‘No.’

‘Spoilsport.’

‘Lifesaver.’

‘Pussy.

‘Power of attorney.’

Tony took the solar powered boots off. ‘Damn.’


End file.
